


Bikers and Bottle Rockets

by secretsofthesky



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Jug is her neighbor, betty has a son, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 20:31:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16249256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsofthesky/pseuds/secretsofthesky
Summary: Written from a prompt: “My kid just shot a bottle rocket into your window” AUShe heard shuffling and her heart began to race as she braced herself and awaited the confrontation.She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when the door swung open, but she definitely wasn’t expecting her neighbor to only be half dressed.Or for her to forget how to breathe.





	Bikers and Bottle Rockets

* * *

_My kid just shot a bottle rocket into your window” AU_

* * *

 

 

Betty’s nostrils flared as she dragged a deep breath in through her nose and slowly exhaled. Her hands flexed, fisting and then unfisting a few times as if the movement would help boost her courage. One more deep breath, and with one more warning look at her son, who was peeking out their living room window at her, she slowly made her way up her neighbors walkway and stepped up onto his porch. 

 

She’d heard his motorcycle arrive a few minutes prior, a noise she had been anxiously on the lookout for for the past hour since she arrived home from work and found out that her son had launched a bottle rocket through the man’s back window. She’d not had the courage to immediately rush over when he’d come home, and when she’d caught sight of his leather jacket disappearing into his garage, she patiently waited for a stream of curses, but none had came. 

 

She then realized that the confrontation would probably be better  _ before _ he noticed the glass all through his kitchen than afterward when he was heated, so she’d slowly made her way over. 

 

She’d never so much as spoken to the man in the three months since he’d bought the home. The parts of her that bared a scary resemblance to her mother, that she attempted to bury away at all times, had her narrowing her eyes uneasily the very first time she’d seen his bike pull up, followed by a U-haul packed with a few other leather clad men. It wasn’t that she particularly minded motorcycles, and had always wanted to ride one herself, but she knew from that symbols on their jackets and the absence of woman that the quiet abandoned house next door was most likely about to be the stomping grounds for a motorcycle gang. 

 

She had been right, to an extent. His friends were over frequently, though they weren’t loud, and never disrespectful, much to her surprise. 

 

A week after he was moved in and settled, after ringing the doorbell and not getting an answer, she’d left a basket of baked goods on his porch with a letter welcoming him to the neighborhood. She’d never received a thank you, or her basket back, so she hadn’t tried again, and that was the extent of the attempted communication with him.   

 

She had enough on her plate anyways, working two jobs and being the single mother to a very  _ adventurous _ , six year old. A six year old who would now be tagging along with her to her shifts at Pop’s until she found a new babysitter since she had to fire Midge today. Leaving her son alone long enough to not only  _ build  _ a bottle rocket, but _ launch _ it? No way was she getting a second chance. Betty was just happy Liam hadn’t been injured. That was all that mattered.

 

“Definitely all that matters,” Betty whispered to herself as she rang the doorbell. “I’ll just pay for the window,  _ not that we can really afford that right now _ , and apologize and that will be all. At least no one was hurt.”

 

_ Unless her neighbor had gotten home, slipped on the glass and was currently bleeding out on his kitchen floor and that’s why she hadn’t heard him cussing _ , she thought as a couple minutes ticked by and she rang the doorbell one more time, knocking on the door as well just incase the bell was broken. 

 

She heard shuffling and her heart began to race as she braced herself and awaited the confrontation. 

 

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when the door swung open, but she definitely wasn’t expecting her neighbor to only be half dressed. 

 

Or for her to forget how to breath. 

 

She’d caught glimpses of him the past few months, enough to tell he was a handsome man, but seeing him this close, with dark blue eyes shining behind long black lashes, packed a punch a few glances at him from afar never did. 

 

“Hey,” he said, running a small towel over wet hair, causing droplets of water to cascade down his chest and disappear under his jeans. His jeans that were zipped up, but unbuttoned, and hanging loosely on his hips as if he’d just jumped out of the shower and had threw them on to be able to answer the door. 

 

Well, at least he put pants on, Betty thought. Had he opened the door in just a towel, she would have surely melted right there on his front steps. 

 

“Can I help you with something?”

 

Betty startled, realizing her eyes had been focused where the water had disappeared and instantly flushed, her eyes jumping up to meet his very amused ones. It was October, and a cool day all around, but it suddenly felt like she was standing in the middle of the sahara desert. She may just melt still. 

 

“I…” she started and stopped when she heard how breathy she sounded. She took a calming breath before plastering on her best smile. “Have you by chance been in your kitchen yet?” She glanced to the envelopes sticking out of his mailbox by the door quickly. “Mr. Jones.”

 

Blue eyes narrowed, even as an eyebrow quirked when she said his name. “It’s Jughead, and that is definitely the _ last _ thing I expected to come out of your mouth.” Betty opened her mouth to explain but he held up a finger. “I’m going to go look in my kitchen. I’ll be right back.” he told her, turning away from her and Betty couldn’t help but watch the way his tattooed back muscles flexed as he walked away, tossing the towel he had been drying his hair with over a chair, or notice how amazing his ass looked in those low slung jeans. 

 

Oh my, it had been far too long since she’d dated anyone. Perhaps she should get back to it if she was standing there practically screwing her neighbor with her eyes. 

 

It wasn’t even a minute before he appeared again, a grin on his face as he ran a had through his hair, pushing it back from his eyes. 

 

She was happy to see he didn’t look angry, even though she wished he would stop smiling because it was doing nothing to help this insane attraction she felt toward him. 

 

He was breathtaking. Literally. She had forgot to breathe again. 

 

“So, I’m assuming you know something about the glass shattered all over my counter?”

 

She flushed again, from embarrassment over his broken window but also because his low, smooth voice was making her toes curl and she wanted to just nod and let him be the one to keep talking. 

 

But she was an adult. And this was serious business. Very serious business. 

 

“Bottle rocket?” 

 

Betty met his eyes again, sending him an apologetic look as she nodded. “My son. The babysitter wasn’t watching him. She has since been fired and I promise you this will _ never  _ happen again.” Betty told him quickly. “I have some tarp and can help you cover the window if you need it temporarily, and  _ will _ pay to have it replaced, of course, as soon as you have an estimate.” 

 

He leaned a bare shoulder against the door jam and crossed his arms, the muscles in them flexing and her eyes moved slowly over the tattoos he had there. “How old’s your son? He can’t be any older than what, five, six?”

 

Betty’s eyes met his dancing blue ones and she cleared her throat, realizing she’d been caught staring. Yet again. “Yes, he’s six.” 

 

Jughead quirked an eyebrow. “And he made that rocket and set it off all by himself? That’s pretty damn impressive.” 

 

Betty opened her mouth to reply but a chuckle escaped her lips instead. “That thought  _ did _ cross my mind as well as I was yelling at him.” she admitted honestly. “He is a very bright boy.” she beamed with pride. “Bright, but also wild.” 

 

Jughead raised a hand to run a thumb slowly over his bottom lip as he let his eyes slowly move up and down her figure, setting her body aflame. “Well you’re in luck, because it just so happens I was planning on replacing that window anyways.” 

 

Betty’s eyes widened, her mouth opening and then closing several times before she found her voice again. “You were?” There was no way she was that lucky. Replacing the window take a chunk of her savings she had worked to build up.

 

Jughead nodded, standing up straight again. “So he didn’t really do that much harm. I didn’t expect to take it out  _ that  _ way, but I won’t say I’m disappointed in the way it went down.”

 

Betty crossed her arms, unsure of where he was going. “Broken glass all over your kitchen isn’t disappointing?” She let out a chuckle. 

 

“Well, it’s not every day a beautiful woman rings my bell and very blatantly checks me out.” 

 

Yep, she was melting. She was about to mess his house up even more because he was going to have to scrape her off the steps. 

 

“I…” she started and then shook her head, laughing, unable to help the smile that spread across her face. “I have no clue what to say to that.” 

 

Jughead smirked and moved to reach for something behind his door. “This wouldn’t happen to be yours, is it?” he asked, and held up the basket she’d filled with baked goods months earlier. 

 

Her eyes darted to his, surprised he’d kept it. She thought he’d had thrown it out when she hadn’t gotten it back. “Yes, it is.”

 

Jughead set it down, looking far too delighted. “I was hoping so, but I wasn’t sure. You probably shouldn’t leave baked goods on people’s porches with no note. They could have been poisoned and send by my enemies for all I knew.” He winked. “Didn’t stop me from devouring them within an hour though because after that first bite, I was content with dying if I got to do it tasting those.”

 

“There was a note!” Betty told him, her cheeks now tinged with pleasure instead of embarrassment at his compliment. “If you didn’t get it it must have blown away. I thought you were just rude.” 

 

Jughead chuckled. “Some would say I am,” he told her honestly, running a hand through his dark hair again. “But trust me, had I known who had sent them, you would have heard from me. I’ve been half tempted to walk over and ask but didn’t want you to call the cops on me if it hadn’t been you and a strange biker was suddenly on your porch asking about cookies.” 

 

Betty bit her lip. “I wouldn’t have called the cops.”

 

“Well,” he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “That is  _ very _ good to know.” 

 

A few moments of silence passed, with their eyes on one another, neither looking away, and she knew he felt this spark between them as well. “Well, even though you say you were planning to replace the window anyways, I still feel awful.” 

 

Jughead pursed his lips, his eyes never leaving her. “Well, how about you make me some baked goods, any kind - I’m not picky, and we’ll call it even.” 

 

Betty’s heart pounded and she glanced back to her house and saw the little face pressed up against the window watching her. When his father left when he was a baby, she made a promise to focus on him and not men, and had never brought a man around him. But for the first time in five years, she was struggling to uphold that promise and wondering if maybe she could make an exception, just once. 

 

“How about you come over for dinner, and dessert, and I send you home with another basket?”

 

The offer was out before she thought twice and she almost regretted it before a slow smile, even more dazzling than any he’d sported until then, spread across his face. 

 

“I’d love that.” 

 

Betty met his smile and crossed her arms and then uncrossed them nervously and took a step back, making her way down the steps before turning around. “It’s a deal then. Six o’clock?” 

 

She watched him nod. “I’ll make sure to put on a shirt, just so you don’t get distracted and burn my apology treats.” 

 

Betty was surprised to find herself laughing again and even more surprised when she winked at him. “That would probably be best,” she said, and then made her way down his walkway, his laughter following her. 

  
She would make spaghetti and meatballs, Liam’s favorite, even though he was  _ technically _ being punished… because she was suddenly very grateful he’d launched that rocket at the neighbor’s house. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3  
> Find me on tumblr: [secretsofthesky](http://www.secretsofthesky.tumblr.com)


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